


Where's Steve?

by Libelli



Series: Stucky Angst [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Heartbreak, M/M, Possible Avengers 4 spoilers, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Stucky - Freeform, Suicidal Thoughts, stucky angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-23 23:09:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14943090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Libelli/pseuds/Libelli
Summary: Bucky wakes up after the battle with Thanos is long over, and he has one question on his mind: "Where's Steve?" and the fallout of that question is enormous.





	Where's Steve?

Bucky was at peace. That was what he felt, like he was floating in the random space between being asleep and being awake in the morning. He was warm, comfortable too; at least if he didn’t think about it.

“Barnes?”

The voice was enough to snap Bucky out of the haze. He opened his eyes, like he did each and every morning, blinking as the too bright light of a lab met his gaze. Bucky rubbed a hand over his face as he sat up.

“Can you hear me?”

“Sam? You’re the last person I expected to want to sit by my bedside.” Bucky half-heartedly mumbled.

“Believe me, we were taking shifts.” Sam said.

Bucky smiled a little. His whole body hurt, even his metal arm, he didn’t even know that _could_ hurt. “What happened?” There was an uneasy gap in his memory. One minute he was fighting in the Wakandan jungle, then his body felt _wrong_. He had called out to Steve. And that was that. Now he was in a mediocre hospital bed in a random lab.

Sam cleared his throat and looked over at another person still sleeping: the kid from Queens. “Maybe we should go outside. See everyone else?” suggested Sam.

Bucky nodded. “Sure, but what about him? We’re just going to leave him?”

Sam stood up from his chair. “Tony’s been checking on him every hour or so, he’ll be fine.”

Bucky followed Sam out of the ‘hospital’, and into the hallway. They weren’t in Wakanda anymore, it looked like a S.H.I.E.L.D. base instead. Figures considering the damage the Avengers and their ragtag team of superheroes did to Wakanda.

Down the hall, Bucky could hear voices talking. Tony Stark. Thor. Nick Fury. A few other less demanding voices were thrown in there, but he couldn’t hear Steve. He was probably just rolling his eyes as Stark and the others blew hot steam at each other.

“We, uh, beat Thanos.” Sam said.

“That’s good,” said Bucky, “how?”

“Don’t know. I was dead.”

Bucky rushed to fall into step next to Sam. “What do you mean you were dead?”

“I don’t really know what happened...but the ones who didn’t die said Thanos wiped out half of the universe’s population just like that.” explained Sam. “We turned to ash and blew away.”

Bucky would be lying if of all the things he heard, that wasn’t one of the most horrifying. “Me too, I guess?” he asked.

Sam nodded.

Bucky thought back to when his body had felt strange, that must have been the ash Sam was talking about. He had called out to Steve. _He must’ve seen it happen._ Bucky thought. _He saw me die. Again._

Bucky shook the thought off. If Steve hadn’t left him alone before, he wasn’t sure what would happen now. Bucky was sure that after a week he could probably convince Steve that they wouldn’t need to be in the same room as eachother twenty-four-seven.

The voices fell silent when Bucky and Sam turned into the room. Everyone was looking at Bucky.

“Ah, Barnes, welcome back to the land of the living.” Stark said.

Bucky said nothing. _Stark. Thor. Random Woman._ He counted off in his head.

“Well, to fill you in on what you missed. We defeated Thanos by constructing…”

_Nick Fury. Strange. That Shrinking Guy._

“...and then Captain Marvel here along with Thor…”

_No Steve?_

“...Banner, did amazing, we couldn’t have done without him…”

_No Steve. He’s with Natasha. She isn’t here either. Yeah, Clint isn’t here and those two are always together. Steve probably got bored of these guys and went with her._

“...it was tricky getting all of you guys back, but we did, and-”

“Where’s Steve?” Bucky asked. It had come out harsh and demanding, but Bucky didn’t care.

“I’m sorry?” Stark asked.

“Steve. Steve Rogers.” Bucky said. He forced a smile, maybe that would make Stark open up more. “Where is he?”

The silence weighed heavily in the room. Everyone looked away from Bucky. Fury typed something into one of the room’s many keyboards. Bucky’s smile fell, his heart started hammering.

“Where’s Steve?” he repeated.

Stark stepped forward. He reached up like he wanted to clap Bucky on the back, but drew his hand away before he could. Bucky was glad, but he still shot Stark a look.

“Walk with me,” Stark said.

Bucky didn’t have time to answer before Stark walked out of the room and into another hallway. Bucky had no choice but to follow.

Stark said nothing.

_He’s dead._ Came a creeping thought. _No. No. He’s just hurt. Really hurt. That dumb serum has kept him alive through the dumbest stuff. He’s fine._

Stark opened the door to an armored room. Bucky almost laughed. “You kidding me? You still don’t trust me enough? I’m not going to hit you for whatever happened to Steve.” Bucky said as Stark faced him. “How bad did he get hurt?”

Stark looked away for a moment, took a deep breath, then looked Bucky in the eye as he said it.

“Steve’s dead.”

Nothing.

Nothing went through Bucky’s head.

He must have looked confused because Stark said it again.

“He died.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Steve died.” Stark said again, more sure of the answer the third time around.

“No, I _heard_ you,” Bucky said, “what do you mean he’s dead?!”

Stark looked confused now. “Dead as in dead.” he said.

_Dead as in dead_ . The words repeated in Bucky’s head. _Gone. Dead. Not alive_.

Steve was dead? The white, frostbitten bodies from the war, the prisoners holding their guts in the Hydra labs, the people choking as their faces turned blue...even Sarah Rogers just so unmoving...they all had Steve’s face now. Steve in all those positions. Steve in all those ways _dead_.

Bucky clutched at his head as if it would make those images go away. Instead his vision blurred.

“He...Steve fought bravely...but when faced with an enemy-”

“ _Save it_ .” Bucky spat. He looked at Stark as best as he could. He tried to keep his composure. “ _Save the heroic bullshit_ . _I don’t want to hear it._ ”

Stark nodded as if to agree that it was only fair. Bucky buried his face in his hands. He felt weak.

Bucky’s knees collapsed without warning. Stark moved to catch him, but Bucky stopped and held himself against the wall. He shot Stark a glare that made him back away.

“Look, I know how you’re feeling right now, and-”

Bucky cut Stark off. “ _You_ ? You of all people?” Buck asked. There was a pause before Bucky spoke again.“How did you all decide it was you who was going to tell me? Why _are_ you the one telling me?” Tony said nothing. “How do you know he’s dead?”

“ _Barnes_ -” Tony sighed.

“No, everyone thought I was dead!” Bucky cried. “I was just stuck in a Hydra base! You could’ve left Steve in the middle of nowhere!”

Bucky hoped, no matter how horrible a fate being left for dead was, that that was what happened to Steve. Every ounce in his body teemed with the bright idea that Stark was, somehow, just wrong.

Stark’s lips were pressed in a thin line. “We have the body,” he said.

Bucky shook his head, his eyes wide. “No, you don’t.”

“We do.” Stark said. “You don’t have to-”

“Take me to him,”

“He’s not in good shape. You don’t-”

“ _Take me to him_.”

Stark motioned for Bucky to follow him; he was frowning. Bucky’s legs wanted to break into a run, but he did not know where he was going and Stark was still only walking.

_This isn’t real_ . Bucky thought. His breathing was shallow and fast as he walked at Stark’s heels. _This is just a joke. A dumb, bad joke. Stark hates me. I must’ve made Steve mad somehow. I’ll walk in and he’ll be standing there...I’ll hug him and tell him how much of an idiot he is._

An eternity after walking through the winding halls of the S.H.I.E.L.D. base later, Stark stopped in front of a reinforced metal door and a keypad. Little, black cameras were at every corner on the ceiling.

Stark’s hand hesitated above the keypad.

“What are you waiting for?” Bucky asked.

“Are you sure?” Tony asked.

“Yes.” Bucky said. “ _Open the door._ ”

Tony sighed and pressed a quick succession of buttons. There was a satisfying beep and the heavy locks inside the door ground open. Tony pulled on the handle and the door swung open.  

A wall of cool air hit Bucky, and he stepped into the dimly lit room. There was a steel table in the center. It had a black, plastic body bag laying on top of it. The first thought in Bucky’s head was to turn around and run, there was something not right about the room. However, Bucky pushed down the unease he felt and crossed the room. He stared down at what would be the head lying inside of the black bag.

_Now would be a good time to pop around a corner, Steve._ Bucky thought.

But Steve didn’t.

“It was his heart.” Stark said. Bucky’s hand shook as it took hold of the zipper. “Thanos hit him hard enough to break his heart…” Stark continued, “So...you’ll see that.”

Bucky let out a long breath and closed his eyes. He pulled the zipper and heard it whirr.

_Steve? Where are you?_

Bucky’s eyes peeled open, and he stiffened like he had been electrocuted. A wisp of blonde hair drifted up and out of the bag. It was too familiar. Bucky pulled both pieces of the bag apart. He immediately pulled them back together.

Bucky sunk to his knees and looked at the metal plates under him. He was still holding the bag closed. A cold settled over Bucky, it rooted itself deep in his stomach. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to scream, but he felt like his vocal chords were glued.

_I looked too fast._ Bucky jumped to his feet. This time he parted the flaps of the bag slow.

And it was Steve. Eyes closed, looking like he was sleeping. His skin was paler than it should have been. Someone had taken off the shirt of Steve’s super suit, probably in an attempt to examine his wound and to save his life, leaving the mortal wound open for the world to see. The wound was warped and deep purple, like a raised bruise. Red and blue veins crossed his chest and abs originating from the wound over his heart.

“Steve?” Bucky whiserped.

He was lying so still.

“Hey, Steve,” Bucky said shaking Steve by the shoulder, “wake up.” Steve let himself be shook. First easily, and then roughly. “Stop playing around, c’mon, wake up.”

Steve did not move. Bucky stopped shaking him, but kept his hands in place on Steve’s cold shoulders. There was no pulse beneath the skin.

“No, no, no, no, don’t do this to me,” Bucky rambled. He pulled Steve into a sitting position, and tried his best not to scream when Steve’s head lolled to the side. Bucky supported Steve with one hand and held his chin up with the other; so that when Steve opened his eyes he would look right at Bucky. “You’re okay,” Bucky continued, his voice shaking, “you’re gonna be okay.” He glanced down at Steve’s chest, all the colors swirling into one as tears welled into Bucky’s eyes. “That’s nothing, it’s nothing. _You’re okay_.”

Steve was unresponsive. Tears fell onto Steve and the dumb plastic bag he was in. Bucky moved Steve’s head around, as if the unwanted motions would be the thing to snap Steve out of the horrible joke. “Come on,” Bucky whispered, “ _come on, open you eyes_.”

Nothing.

Bucky’s shaking arms pulled Steve close, and held him tight. Bucky held Steve’s head up to press against his own shoulder, and Bucky buried himself in the crook of Steve’s neck. He could not feel a heartbeat.

“C’mon,” Bucky begged, “Come on. One more time. Open your eyes one more time. One more time for me. _Please_. One more time for me, punk.”

Bucky held Steve at arm’s length. Again, his head fell to the side, and Steve gave no sign he was alive. Bucky did not want to let go of Steve to wipe away his tears, instead he let them drop one by one down his face. Every breath strangled him. Bucky laid Steve back down, and adjusted the bag as if it were a blanket and Bucky was only sending him to bed. Bucky blinked fast to get rid of the tears, so he could see Steve clearly one more time, but he couldn’t.

When Bucky saw Steve’s still face clearly, he fell to the ground. Instead of getting up, Bucky hunched over himself and pressed his forehead against the cold metal. He choked down horrible gasps, and when he opened his mouth nothing came out.

Bucky curled his hands into fists so tight he thought he would break both. _He’s dead._ Bucky thought. _Steve’s gone._ He thought of everything Steve all at once: Steve’s smile, his frown when he held up his hands to show Bucky the charcoal smudges from drawing, Steve’s strength and warmth whenever he and Bucky had hugged, tucking newspapers into his shoes, and Steve the moment everything fell into place for the first time, Steve looking up at the Winter Soldier with trust in his eyes even though the Winter Soldier was ready to kill him.

Everything that would never happen again.

_He’s gone._

That’s when the noise came out. Bucky didn’t scream or pound his fists. He sobbed. Horrible, wet, guttural cries that echoed off the walls in the metal room. Bucky pressed his head further and further into the floor until it ached, as if he could melt into the floor.

* * *

 

_“hey,”_

_Bucky whipped around to see Steve propping himself up on his elbows in bed, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Steve smiled lazily at him._

_“_ Hey _?!” Bucky cried marching back across the room. “You have the guts to keep me up all night worrying about you, and when you finally wake up not to cough your lungs up you say ‘hey’?!”_

_Bucky fake-angrily knelt next to Steve’s bed so that they were eye-level. Steve was either too tired or too arrogant to let Bucky see him smile._

_“What? You want a ‘good morning’?” he asked, his voice was still weak._

_Bucky rolled his eyes. “You’re hopeless!”_

_However, Bucky had not been so relieved in his recent memory. He was just happy to hear Steve talking and joking like a normal person, and to hear people outside on the streets through the open window._

_“You think the storm last night washed away all the pollen?” Steve asked._

_“I hope so, I don’t want to go through this again for awhile.” Bucky said his smile falling as he recalled the night before._

_“Bucky,” Steve asked, snapping Bucky’s attention back to Steve, “did you really think I was going to die last night?”_

_“No. What makes you say that?”_

_“I heard a little bit of what you said.” Steve mumbled looking down at his chest._

_Bucky sighed as he collected his thoughts. Between the storm and the hours long pollen-induced asthma attack from that afternoon, he had thought he was going to lose Steve, and he may have said some things that were a bit dramatic._

_“I opened my eyes for you.”_

_Steve was looking back up again at Bucky, his smile returned._

_“For me?” Bucky asked trying to feign surprise._

_Steve laughed a little, but tried not to too much in case his coughing came back. “Well yeah, you asked me to. What were the words? ‘Open your eyes one more time for me?”_

_Bucky groaned. “Don’t make it sound so cheesy! I was really worried!”_

_Steve laid back down, but still looked up at Bucky. “Well, don’t worry. If you’re still around, I’ll always wake up.”_

_Bucky smiled. “Don’t go saying stuff like that.”_

_“Why not?”_

_“Because I’ll remember it, and hold it over your head, punk.” Bucky said._

_Steve rolled his eyes, and Bucky laughed. A clean May breeze blew in through the window carrying with it the smell of rain long gone and the rest of the Brooklyn street below._

* * *

 

Bucky staggered into a random room, the furthest one away from all the people asking where he was going, if he was alright. The door automatically shut behind him, it’s timing could not have been better because the second it did Bucky screamed. He had cried in the other room because Tony had been in it, and Steve. Now, alone and bracing himself against a wall, Bucky kept screaming.

_Why had it been Steve? Who else would it have been if it wasn’t Steve?_

His scream withered down into sobbing again, he had already cried so much that his face ached, but that did not stop it from happening. The sweat on Bucky’s back was cold, and every intake of breath before another cry was a stab in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky sobbed, “Steve, I’m so sorry.” The Steve that came to mind was the one he knew growing up, and no matter how painful, Bucky could not forget that face. _I was supposed to...keep you safe. Look what I did!_ He thought.

“ _It’s not your fault_.” Steve would’ve said, then go on to blame himself for everything.

_No_ . Bucky’s thoughts continued. _If it hadn’t been for me none of this would’ve happened. He wouldn’t have followed me behind enemy lines. He wouldn’t have become Captain America. I made him that way. Everything that has happened to him since then is because of me. Oh God, I tried to kill him. So many times. I even tried to kill him._ Bucky took a deep breath and that calmed him for a moment where he could see the sparse room he was in. _It should have been me._ The thought came before Bucky could stop it, then it was all he could think of. _I should have stayed dead. Hell, I shouldn’t have come back from that train. I should be dead. Not Steve. Why? Why am I still here?_

Bucky rested his head against the wall and looked down at his hands. His left hand clenched hard and then released. Even though his right hand was strong, this one was far stronger. Bucky reached up with his left arm and wrapped his fingers around his throat. He let out a long breath and closed his eyes. Bucky swallowed down his trepidation and felt it go down, the metal chill against his skin.

But he couldn’t do it.

Bucky let go of his neck, and shivered as he stood in the room hearing the other Avengers searching for him in the hallway. He dropped his hand and let his head rest against the wall.

* * *

 

“So, are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?” Tony asked as he placed his third coffee cup on the table.

“Only if the elephant has long hair, a metal arm, and currently won’t leave his room.” Clint sighed rubbing his temples. “Did you know he threw Carol out of his room today? First of all: how? Second of all: should we _all_ try to go to him next? I don’t mean to sound hasty, but it’s been almost two weeks, and we need to…” Clint trailed off as he thought about the task at hand for their fallen friend.

The other Avengers were quiet as they sat around the table, trying to think about what to do about Bucky.

Rhodey cleared his throat. “How about this: we don’t.” The whole table’s attention immediately shot to him.

“Why?” Bruce asked.

“ _Because he’s in pain_.” Rhodey said. “We shouldn’t be forcing him to deal with us when he probably can barely keep himself together. He’s not hurting anybody or himself so I say leave it.”

“Besides…” Natasha said, “we still need to think about what the government said they want from him.”

* * *

 

There was a knock on the door. “Barnes?” Bucky did not answer it, but the door opened anyway. Natasha stood in the doorway, light from the hall pooling around her. “Do you mind?” she asked. “It’s really dark in here.”

“ _Yes_ ,”

Natasha blinked as if to say ‘oh’, and left the turning on the lights discussion at that. She walked over to wear Bucky sat against the wall, and didn’t look shocked or upset when he didn’t look at her. He kept on staring straight ahead at the other wall.

“May I sit?” Natasha asked.

“ _Sure_ ,”

Natasha slid down the wall. She pulled her legs in close and rested her chin on her knees. She said nothing for a few moments. Bucky still did not look at her.

“How are you-”

“ _Fine._ ”

More silence followed.

Natasha cleared her throat. “So...there’s talk of where we’re going to bury him.” Bucky did not answer. “Some are suggesting Arlington, or Quantico. _But_ because you’re the closest to next of kin, it was decided we’d ask you what-”

“Next to his mother.” Bucky said.

“What?” Natasha asked.

Bucky turned to face her. “He would’ve wanted to be buried next to his mother. In Brooklyn.” Bucky said. Then he quietly added, “It’s where I want to be too.”

“Bucky, what do you mean by that?” Natasha asked.

“ _Nothing_.” Bucky said. “Oh yeah, no frills or military stuff either. Let Steve at least be dead like a normal person.”

Nathasha smiled. “Will do,”

Bucky thought she would get up at that time and leave, but she still sat there looking at his dark room he hadn’t left in two days like it was the most fascinating place in the world.

“Why did they really send you?” Bucky asked when Natasha didn’t leave.

“Well, for one, we really do want to know where you want Steve to be laid to rest.” she said. “Number two, they wanted me to see how you were doing.”

“That’s awfully nice of them.”

“And number three.”

“Number three?” Bucky asked.

“Yes.” Natasha said. “You see, Steve Rogers may be dead, Captain America can’t be, at least not according to the government.” Bucky folded his arms in front of his chest and went back to looking at the wall. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but orders are orders. It’s thought that if the public lost Captain America then faith and trust in the government will vanish overnight. He’s been a symbol for over seventy years, that would be a lot to lose.”

_That’s nothing_. Thought Bucky.

“It was suggested that we keep Steve’s funeral small and personal, which works out how you want it to be, and we pass on the mantle of Captain America without the public knowing.” Natasha said.

Bucky laughed. “To who?”

“To you.”

Bucky looked back at Natasha so fast he got whiplash. He blinked. “They seriously want _me_ to become _Captain America_ ?” he asked. It had to be a joke. “ _Why_?”

Natasha shrugged. “You knew him better than anyone else. Who else would be the best person to continue on what he stood for?”

Bucky huffed and rolled his eyes. “No, thank you.”

Natasha smiled like she had been expecting that answer. “Why don’t you give it some thought.”

She got up, and walked out of the room. She closed the door behind her, leaving Bucky alone in the dark.

* * *

 

Bucky looked down at the freshly covered grave below him. Flowers were heaped so high on top of the dirt, Bucky could barely read the name on top: Steven Grant Rogers 1920-2018. Everyone had long gone home, save for Sam and Natasha who stood respectfully at a distance, and the graveyard was filled with the sounds of the hustle and bustle of New York City. Life had moved on.

Bucky smiled down, and his heart ached. “You’re really dumb, y’know.” he said. “I’ve wanted to say that for a long, long time.” Bucky sighed and buried his hands in his pockets. The breeze blew a few strands of his hair into his eyes. “You were the most important person in my life. I loved you. I still do.” Tears pricked in Bucky’s eyes but there was nothing he could do about it. “We didn’t have the easiest go, but I’m glad I was with you...it really was the end of the line, huh?”

Bucky laughed. Tears dropped one by one onto the flowers. “I miss you already. Is this what you felt? Because it’s awful.” Bucky paused. “But I think it’s going to be okay,” He reached out and touched the grave stone like it would make up for Steve not being there.  “I think you stopped all the bad guys.”

Bucky turned away from Steve’s grave and walked over to Sam and Natasha. Sam clapped him on the back and together they walked back home.


End file.
